The Reasons
by TheDevilYouDon't
Summary: "Harry, who did you write this about?" I asked him. He didn't answer, just looked down at the ground. "What is this, Harry?" I asked, my voice more frantic now. "They're the reasons," he answered. Set during 6th year. H/Hr. Review please. Hermione's POV


**This is based off of a GMH story I read. I loved it and thought of Harry Potter.(Maybe it's because today is the day my family[and friends] is[are] having our Harry Potter Movie Marathon. XD It's a big event.) Enjoy. **

_The Reasons _

"Harry?" I asked.

He was being quiet again. More quiet than normal, anyway. He had really been quiet since Sirius had...Well, since he had lost Sirius. I could never really get him to hold a normal conversation unless he was alone. But, he had to do his homework. He really did. He was behind as it was. I laughed aloud. He was always behind in homework. Between him and Ron, I could never understand how they pass each grade. Perhaps Dumbledore favors them a bit much. How could you not, though?

I mean, after all, it's _Harry Potter._ Defender of both the Muggle _and_ Wizarding worlds. Anyone who _didn't _favor him, even a little bit would have to be Professor Snape or just mad. He had saved the lives of every Hogwarts student, or citizen of the Earth, time and time again for six years. He deserved a little favoritism.

"Harry?" I repeated. He was sitting in a chair, his hands flat on his knees, staring into the common room fire with a blank look in his eyes. As I spoke, he looked up at me, a slight smile appearing on his lips. "Are you okay?" He nodded in response.

"Okay, then. Let's get started." I leaned over and grabbed his stack of textbooks which he had dumped onto the floor when I had offered to help him with his homework.

He nodded again, though he went back to staring into the fire. As I pulled the books onto my lap, a small black book fell onto the floor with a clatter. Harry looked up and gave me a questioning look before glancing down at the ground. His eyes went wide before he shot down to the floor and began reaching for it.

To be honest, I can't remember what I was thinking when I leaned down and picked up the book. Perhaps I had just chosen to ignore the fact that he was groping the stone floor in a frenzy to grab the small black notebook. I pulled a small band off of the book and opened it up. I flipped through the book before coming across a large section of writing.

"What's this, Harry?" I asked him, looking up at him. His eyes were wide again.

"Nothing, Hermione. Give it here," he said.

I laughed. "What could the famous Harry Potter possibly want to hide?" I asked, and looked down at the first page of writing.

_'Her eyes tell you how she is feeling._

_She's smart._

_She's clever._

_She's kind and gentle._

_She's never rude._

_She listens to me._

_She doesn't just regard me as 'Harry Potter'. She regards me as who I am on the inside._

_She's cautious, but not too much.'_

The list went on and on for about twelve pages on both sides of the paper. I read through them all before looking up at Harry, my brow furrowed in wonder. He looked at me sadly, seeming to be disappointed with something-perhaps himself.

"Harry, who did you write this about?" I asked him. He didn't answer, just looked down at the ground. "What is this, Harry?" I asked, my voice more frantic now.

"They're the reasons," he muttered quietly, his eyes trained on his feet.

"What does that mean? What reasons?" I asked him.

"The reasons why I love you, Hermione." I'm not sure what I was expecting, but whatever I was, it sure wasn't that.

"W-what?" For a second, I thought maybe he couldn't understand me, since my voice was almost silent. But, then, he turned and looked at me, and I could see that his eyes were glistening with tears.

"Every night I can't sleep, I lay in bed and write down the reasons why I love you. Sometimes just one more reason, sometimes a whole page," Harry explained in a calm voice.

"Why are there so many of them, then?" I whispered.

"I can't sleep a lot."

"Oh, Harry," I stood quickly, his textbooks tumbling from my lap and falling onto the ground loudly. I rushed over to where he was sitting and sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

"Hermione," he mumbled into my ear, wrapping his own arms around my waist. "I love you, Hermione."

These words made me soar. And feel sick. But mostly made me soar. Without thinking, I pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes for less than a second before leaning down and kissing him gently.

I do this sometimes. I've known that for years. Over time, I let things build up and build up until I finally break and do something rash or intense. This time, I had let my feelings for Harry build and build until it had accumulated into this; me kissing him as we sat in the near empty common room on a dreary Tuesday evening in the middle of November. Perhaps I should have just...skipped my homework or something, but, looking back, I'm much gladder I'd gone with my gut instinct instead.

"She's a great kisser," I heard Harry whisper after I had pulled away.

"What?" I asked him.

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking of something else I need to write down," Harry answered laughing.

**Okay, I know. Sudden, cheesy ending. I'm sorry. ::rolls eyes:: Whatever. XD Leave me a review, please. Tell me what you think.**


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